


Morning Coffee

by drownedinblissfulconfusion (tundraeternal)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tundraeternal/pseuds/drownedinblissfulconfusion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Cas discovers coffee, and sets out to taste every single flavor of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeeisoxygen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=coffeeisoxygen).



“Dean, wake up. Dean.”

Dean opens his eyes blearily to find Cas inches away, sitting on the side of his bed and staring intently into his face. ”Jesus, Cas, what is it? Trouble?” He can tell at once that it’s not, though. The angel is wearing his ‘amazing new discovery’ expression (similar to his ‘confused panic’ expression with wide eyes and half-open mouth, but Dean can tell the difference by the eyebrows). It’s one Dean has become very familiar with of late. For the past few weeks Cas has been hanging around; joining the Winchesters on their hunts, and devoting spare time cataloguing the artifacts and books in the bunker—a source of immense fascination for him. And he can never keep a new discovery to himself. Dean resigns himself to fate and sits up in bed, stretching and rubbing his face. 

“Alright, Cas. What’s up?”

“I made coffee, Dean.” He looks absurdly proud of himself.

“Awesome.” Dean glances at his clock, which reads 6.24 am. ”You woke me up to tell me there’s coffee, which I wouldn’t need if I weren’t awake. Thanks, I think.” 

Cas tilts his head slightly, eyebrows knitted. ”No, Dean, you don’t understand. Do you remember you told me I should watch television to relax at night while you sleep, instead of keeping watch over you?” Dean nods. That had been a frustrating conversation, and not one he particularly wants to revisit. He fixes Cas with a ‘get to the point’ look. ”There was a documentary last night about coffee- the varieties of beans, and different methods of brewing, and how styles of coffee have gone in and out of vogue throughout history.” 

“Uh-huh. Where you going with this, man?” It’s way too early for angelic ramblings. 

“And last Tuesday, you mocked me because I said that food was essentially for delivering nutrients to the human body and I didn’t understand why people show such marked preferences for one kind of food versus another, when their contents are essentially identical. Do you remember?”

Dean’s eyes narrow. ”What I _remember_ is you telling me that the pie we got at the diner—which was buttery, flaky pastry perfection, by the way—seemed the same to you as that gluey slop they tried to serve us at the truck stop later.” How could anyone spend so much time with Dean Winchester and not properly appreciate the value of pie? It’s completely beyond him. 

“Yes, well, I decided that, since you felt so strongly about it, I should try to cultivate more human preferences.” Cas stares at Dean (sitting a little too close, like always) waiting to hear the verdict on his idea. 

Dean is oddly touched at the idea that Cas would take to heart such a minor thing as the pie discussion. He better watch out or he might start having a profound effect on the angel. ”That’s good, dude. That’s great. When in Rome, huh?”

“Yes, exactly!” Cas is clearly pleased that Dean is on board with the idea, and just as clearly confused about the meaning of the expression. ”The television said that Roman coffee is noted for having particularly vibrant notes, and as coffee in Italy is preferentially brewed in the ‘espresso’ style, the flavors-“

“Cas.” Dean’s definitely not up for lecture mode yet, considering he’s still half asleep.

“The flavors of the beans are balanced so as to include a bitterness that will offset the sweet-“

“CAS!” Dean grabs his arm to catch his notice. It works. 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas is all blue eyes and excitement. Practically glowing with his newly learned, highly specialized knowledge. 

“You think we could maybe do less talking about the coffee, more drinking the coffee? You did say you actually made some, right?” Dean gives his most winning boyish smile, the one that always seems to soften the angel around the edges. As usual, it works like a charm. Cas’s face lights up. 

“Yes, of course! It’s in the kitchen.” He’s through the bedroom doorway before even finishing his sentence.

“Good place for the coffee to be.” Dean snarks to himself as he pulls on his robe and shuffles after him. 

***********************

“Dude.” Dean tries to fake a disapproving tone, despite the grin that keeps pulling at the corners of his mouth. He probably should’ve expected this, from a guy who once flew all over Europe to get ingredients for a sandwich, but somehow he keeps selling Cas short. 

“What kind would you like to try first? I can tell you about the different brewing methods, the various cultivations of the beans, or ‘coffee cherries’ as they’re properly termed…” 

“Cas, don’t you think you maybe went a little overboard? Slightly?” 

“Well i didn’t want to sell any particular region or preparation method short, Dean,” Cas frowns at him sternly. ”It’s important to examine all of the options.” 

And for Cas, ‘all of the options’ clearly means, literally, all of the options. There are hundreds of them, crowding together on every available surface: the counters, the tops of the cabinets, the surface of the table, and even half the floor are covered in varying sizes of mugs and cups. Angel mojo is truly an awesome thing. 

“So, did you pick a favorite yet?” Dean gives up on hiding the smile. Cas might have made a mess of the kitchen, but god knows the guy never does anything by halves, and that’s something Dean can appreciate. 

“No, I, um, I thought i’d wait for you.” Cas shrugs casually, peering at Dean from under his eyelashes. ”I thought since you explained about the pie…”

Dean is grinning ear to ear now, and shaking his head in fond disbelief. A real piece of work, his angel. He claps Cas on the shoulder, then reaches to pick up two of the cups at random. ”Guess we better get started, then.” He hands one to Cas, it’s a small cup with a saucer, and he laughs at the delicate look of it in Cas’s large hands as he raises his own mug in a mock toast. ”To human preferences.”

Cas smiles at him, the small and secret half-smile that makes Dean’s heart behave in oddly erratic ways. ”To human preferences,” he echoes.

Dean takes a sip of his coffee and sighs with pleasure. He might not know much about ‘coffee cherries’ or whatever, but this is really damn good. ”You know, Cas, I think you’ve really got a knack for this.”

Cas flushes with pleasure and tries not to look superior. ”Thank you, Dean. I thought, once we had narrowed down our favorites, we could try them with sugar, or milk, to test whether the flavors are enhanced.”

“That sounds great, man. So, ah, I guess that means you’re gonna stick around for a while?” he asks nonchalantly. They've been living pretty much day to day, but this sounds like Cas might be starting to make plans. 

“It would be foolish to start an undertaking such as this, and not see it through to the conclusion.” He sounds deceptively blase, but something in Cas’s eyes makes Dean think they’re not just talking about the coffee. 

“Yeah, absolutely. And, you know, they’ve got all kinds of fancy shit you can put in coffee. I mean you go into one of those yuppy coffee shops and they’ve got all different kinds of creamer, or chocolate sauce, caramel, you name it. There must be a thousand different things you can put in coffee. You think you might want to try some of those?” Dean can think of no reason on earth that waiting for Cas’s answer is putting butterflies in his stomach, but there it is. 

“Yes, Dean.” Cas’s voice sounds a little lower and rougher than usual. ”I think I would like to try those things very much.”

“Well good.” He reaches out to squeeze Cas’s shoulder again, letting his hand linger there as they smile into one another. They probably look like brain-dead idiots, but the idea of sharing a routine of morning coffee with Cas makes Dean all warm inside. 

He drops his hand and turns as he hears Sam’s voice from the hallway. ”Dude, do I smell coffee?” 

Dean turns back to Cas, and grins. ”Sammy,” he calls back, “you have no idea.”


End file.
